Chasing Love's Wings (8 page)

“I’m not entirely convinced that I’m not still drunk,” I say as I take a seat at the
bar in the kitchen. My armpits are already sore and my foot is killing me, though
the Tylenol seems to have helped my headache. “How long do I have to walk around on
these things?”

“Until the stitches come out.” Oh, hell. “In about seven days.”

“Ugh! That’s too long,” I groan.
 

“Not my orders.” He goes over to the counter and grabs something, then goes to the
cupboard for a glass. He fills it with ice and water from the fridge door and gives
it to me, then hands me two more pills.

“What are these?”
 

“Antibiotics. You stepped on glass, it’s to ward off any infection. You need to take
these two now, then two more in a little while, before bed.”
 

I’m really beginning to feel guilty about the way that I treated him this afternoon
when I woke up and even last night. He’s done everything to take care of me and I
was a complete and utter bitch. “Come here, please?”

He looks at me, a little surprised and probably hesitant, and I don’t blame him, but
he comes to me anyway. He comes to stand between my legs and I wrap my arms around
his waist, pulling him close to me, resting my head against his chest. I stay there
for a minute, until he finally brings his own arms around me, holding me to him, and
he starts to play with my hair. I lift my head and lean back to look at him, but I
don’t loosen my grip around his waist. “I am so, so sorry,” I say, but the words are
barely a whisper and my eyes begin to fill with tears. “You’ve been nothing but caring
and supportive and I’m treating you like shit.”
 

He doesn’t say anything, but his hands come to my cheeks, holding me between them,
and he leans down so that we are nose to nose. “You’re going through a lot, and you’re
in a lot of pain, physically and emotionally, but you need to remember, I am not your
enemy, Cami. I am here for you, to support you and to take care of you, so please,
please, do not shut me out.”
 

As soon as he finishes his speech his lips are on mine, soft and warm, yet possessive
and demanding. He’s showing me exactly what he just said. I’m his — to protect and
to take care of. I wrap my arms around his neck and he stands up, bringing me with
him. I wrap my legs around his waist and I can feel his erection between us. I can’t
help the flick of my hips that follows the realization that he’s right there.
 

He turns toward the dining room table. I think he is going to take me around the wall
to the couch but he doesn’t; he lays me out on the table. I can tell without looking
that I’m on the corner because part of my ass is on either side of it, and I smile
into our kiss when I feel his hands going for the waistband of my pajama pants.
 

My smile is his cue, and he pulls them down my legs. He breaks our kiss so that he
can rid me of my pants and panties.
 

As soon as they’re gone, he brings my legs up to rest on his shoulders. He slides
down at the same time, lifting my pelvis to meet his mouth, and before I can stop
him, his tongue is buried in my pussy. I shiver at the contact. He doesn’t stop the
flicking and circling motions his tongue is making. I moan and my hands dig into his
hair, holding him tighter to my sex, and he starts to suck on my clit. My legs tremble,
heart pounding. I’m so close and he knows it. Alternating between licking and circling,
then sucking, it takes another few strokes and I explode into a million pieces.

He stands up, holding my legs to his chest, and I can feel the coolness of his barbells
pressed against the heat of my dripping-wet sex, but they don’t stay cool for long.
He pulls back, and I can see him watching as he lines up the head of his cock with
my entrance, and he slams into me, filling me full to capacity in one plunge. I nearly
come undone again.

He gives me a moment to adjust before he starts moving — in and out, harder and faster
with each thrust. He leans down and his lips are on mine, hot and wet, tasting of
Tristan and of me, and I moan into his mouth.
 

He rears back. The look in his eyes tells me that he needed this as much as I did,
and what he says next isn’t a surprise. “I’m gonna come,” he says, warning me, but
I can feel my own sex tightening around his cock as it twitches. “Cami,” he groans,
and I explode.

EIGHT

A week later…

******

Tristan

******

Though she is walking slower and can’t wear her great fuck-me pumps, it’s nice to
see Cami without the crutches. I haven’t minded a single minute of helping her or
waiting on her hand and foot for the last seven days. I know she is enjoying her mobility.
 

Beau and Mick have been here off and on over the last few days, checking on her, and
we’ve been trying to work on a game plan in regards to Bobby and how to handle the
situation.
 

Cami knows the ranch, which was ultimately what led to her drinking so heavily. It
wasn’t so much the fact that Bobby was alive, though that certainly started the process.
The horse in the picture is the horse she used to ride when they spent summer vacations
in Montana.
 

She says that she is going to go but doesn’t know when, and she was ready to fire
Vincent when she figured out that he’s Bobby’s likely accomplice in all of this and
that he may have known all along.
 

The only conclusion that any of us can come to in regards to why this happened is
far beyond the realm of possibility. None of us — especially Mick, who knew him best
out of all of us - can think of any good reason why he would go to such extremes.
 

We’ve also watched all the videos that were sent in the package. Most of them were
normal kinds of things, but there were three that surprised her more than anything,
though I’m not sure I understand why.
 

One was a video of Bobby and Evelyn, her mother, arguing and fighting. Ultimately,
Bobby sent Cami and Mark to boarding schools in Europe to avoid a divorce from Evelyn.
She threatened to take everything, including the children, and he wasn’t going to
have that, considering it was very obvious to Bobby, Cami and even myself that Evelyn
wanted nothing to do with her children. Cami also found out that Mark is only a half-brother
and that Evelyn was not his mother, but that is apparently something Cami will need
to ask Bobby more about, should she decide to discuss it with him.
 

The next two were videos of Bobby attending what looked like a high school and then
a college graduation. Cami lost it because she hadn’t even had a clue that he was
even there. Which of course made her more pissed off. She said that she might not
have hated him so much if she’d known then.

She also understands that, while Bobby is the one that sent them away, he did try,
but Cami was too harsh on him and he no longer knew how to get through to her. One
of the things that made her see this was the day she went to him about moving to Phoenix
to go to ASU. Apparently he’d been making a video diary entry when she barged in on
him. She never noticed the camera, and I understand how Cami was so harsh to him —
it was all there, right on camera — but it was what happened when she left that made
her see it all firsthand. Bobby sat down in his office chair and cried. He cried for
so long that he forgot about the camera and the video ran out; at least, he made no
motion to stop the tape from rolling, so that was the conclusion she and I both came
to.
 

That video caused another night of heavy drinking and a few arguments between the
two of us. I let it go because I knew she needed to handle this in her own way. She
paid for it heavily the next day. It was a little bit of bittersweet revenge.

Cami has finally opened up to me about a lot of what Bobby did, though I saw most
of it in the videos, and she’s also found a newfound reason to take over Bold. I think
it has something to do with proving herself to her father more than it has to do with
proving it to herself or even me. But I won’t stand in her way. If this is how she
feels she needs to address him and the issues at hand, she might as well use her anger
to her advantage and put it to good use by being the best she can be.
 

Cami is a very driven woman, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see it. When
she is determined, nothing will stand in her way. It is one of the many things that
make me love her that much more.
 

Over the next couple of weeks, Cami and I are back and forth from Los Angeles and
a couple of times to New York, but I am now getting ready to head up to Montana to
start filming a new movie. She’s decided that she is going to come with me, and I
couldn’t be happier about it.
 

The night before we’re supposed to leave we’re both busy packing. We’re going to be
up there for about four weeks, and she’s looking forward to getting out of the heat;
it is now late August and the weather in Phoenix shows no signs of cooling down anytime
soon, so I can’t blame her for wanting to get out of town.
 

We’re joining Mick, Beau, Tyson, Jolene, Naomi and Travis for a farewell dinner of
sorts. Cami has been bouncing around with excitement for the last couple of days about
tonight, but she refuses to tell me why. Travis, too, is leaving Phoenix, the day
after we do. He has some business to attend to in Los Angeles. He said that he and
Naomi will probably come up to see us in Montana in a couple of weeks.
 

What I’m really excited about is that Jolene has decided to join Cami’s Bold staff
and she is now assisting Cami, so that means that she is coming with us, because of
course Ty is coming along too. Their relationship seems to be beyond anything either
one of them imagined, and anytime I talk to Ty about it he beams with excitement.
Which makes me wonder if Ty is planning on proposing to Jolene tonight and if that
is why Cami is stupidly giddy about the evening. She shuts me down like nobody’s business
when I try and ask her about it. It’s actually quite cute.
 

Once we are done filming in Montana, I have about three weeks off before I’m due in
New York for my next film. If all goes according to plan, Cami and I will be spending
my break in Tarah once again, but that’s a secret I’m keeping to myself.
 

Cami is standing in the bathroom at the mirror. She’s just finished with her hair,
which of course looks beautiful — pulled over one shoulder and held back by a flower
similar to the one she wore in Tarah for one of our dates. Her beauty is something
I can’t get over. It doesn’t matter if she has raccoon eyes or if she is wearing no
makeup at all, which doesn’t happen often. But tonight I am more interested in the
fact that all she has on right now is a black lace bra, matching panties, and lace
top thigh highs that are being held up by a matching garter belt.
 

Her panties leave very little to the imagination and I can’t help but stare hard at
this beautiful girl. I sneak up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist, my hands
gliding along her stomach, and she melts into me.
 

“Hey, beautiful,” I whisper in her exposed ear.
 

“Hey beautiful yourself.” She smiles at me in the mirror and our eyes meet. I love
our little greeting ritual and it never ceases to warm my heart.
 

My hands continue to roam along her body, starting down at her thighs where her thigh
highs stop. Her skin is so soft and I can’t resist touching it.
 

“Behave yourself.”
 

I snort a laugh. “Never.” And I kiss her on her neck just below her ear, the spot
that always turns her to putty in my hands.
 

“We have twenty minutes before we have to get out of here.”

“I can be quick,” I blurt out, my erection straining against my jeans.
 

“Not that quick,” she says, and she turns to kiss me. But it is soft and quick. She
knows better than to work me up, but sometimes I wonder if it works her up just as
much. I can’t seem to stop my hand from roaming between her legs.
 

“See, you’re already hot and wet for me.”
 

“I’m always hot and wet for you, but we don’t have time.” She kisses my cheek. “Now
go, before we really are late. I don’t want the nasty look from Beau because she will
know exactly why we’re late.”
 

I huff. “Fine, but you owe me.”
 

She turns so quickly in my arms that it hardly registers until we are face to face.
“Behave yourself and I will more than make it worth your while,” she promises and
kisses me, then playfully pushes me away.
 

I like her promises of making it worth my while — it usually means that she will do
something extra special for me when we get home — so I back away and let her finish
getting ready. I head down to the kitchen, pour us both a small glass of shiraz and
wait impatiently for her to join me. I haven’t seen what else she plans on wearing
tonight and I don’t really care. I am already starting to feel the ache in my balls,
and it is going to be a long, horny night.

NINE

About ten minutes later she comes down the stairs and my jaw drops.
 

She is wearing bright red fuck-me pumps, the first ones I’ve seen her wear since cutting
her foot. I follow the sleek line of her legs until I meet the hem of a very short,
skintight black dress with a lace overlay. Around her waist is a bright red belt that
matches her shoes, and the dress is sleeveless, displaying her beautiful shoulder
tattoos. She turns so that I can see the back. The black dress dips all the way to
the curve of her beautiful ass, but the lace overlay has a high neckline, though I
can still see her wings and the silver of her corset rings. Laced through her piercings
is a bright red ribbon, visible but subtle.